To everyone of all genders, preferences, age, faiths, colorations, educational backgrounds, language capabilities, geographical origins, and persuasion everywhere, I apologize for anything I may have done at any time that offended you, caused unhappiness, bitterness, resentments, pain, discomfort or ill thoughts. I did not know any better.

Wait. That’s somehow a little too generic. Let me start over and be more specific.

To the entire world, on behalf of the citizens of the United States, I apologize for the election of Donald Trump. I mean that from the heart. Also, I apologize for the very existence of the electoral college and both the Republican and Democratic parties. I apologize that a courageous and illustrious nation such as ours has somehow elected cowards to represent its citizens.

I apologize for the fact that we are not in the streets daily to protest the above. It is my understanding that we are too busy whining about the state of our lives on Facebook to actually do much about the frightening mess we’ve gotten into. Plus, let’s face it, it’s cold outside, Ru Paul reruns are on, the pizza’s getting cold, and we all attended the Million Women March, right?

I apologize for describing myself as overweight. I now understand that doing this may have hurt people even more overweight than I am. I am sorry.

I apologize for being Caucasian, and for all the unearned benefits this implies. I was not born on third base, and I did not hit a triple.

I apologize to all women who have ever received dick pics. Someone—it may have been Annie Leibovitz—said that to her knowledge, no dick pic ever led to a meaningful relationship. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll reveal here for the first time that I once received a tit pic from a woman I barely knew. A year or so later, I received a series of clit pics from another woman. The latter photos were anatomically correct but lacked artistic merit though they did remind me of an episode of Sex in the City. None of the photos from either woman led to either meaningful or meaningless relationships.

I apologize to all women whom I may have looked at in any manner they might deem offensive. I also apologize to all women who feel it is necessary to enhance, support, reveal, restrain, shore up, compress, tan, tint or display any part of their anatomies in the misbegotten belief that this will make them more noticeable to males. This is unnecessary. We know you’re around. We think of you all the time. We admire and love you, and most of us know that most of you are way smarter than we are. You do not need any additional artifice to get our attention.

I apologize to everyone who purchased a fidget spinner in the hope it would relieve anxiety.

I apologize to all the people—mostly men—who bought expensive and very noisy American muscle cars only to learn that the cacophonous exhaust noise they paid big money for does not come from their powerful engines. It’s a computer chip, guys. Sorry.

I apologize for boring electronic media readers with my health issues and will try to do better in the future.

I apologize for thinking the person who told me I got cancer because I didn’t pray enough was an asshole. Actually, I take that back. You know who you are and you’re an asshole.

I apologize to the Facebook person who called me “tumor boy.” See above.

I apologize for the electronic media that has made us increasingly isolated, and for the fact that we are inventing more and more ways to communicate less and less. I apologize that largely because of the electronic media, we are raising and fostering not one, but two disaffected generations that are steeped in depression and anger and have no concept of interpersonal relationships and how they work.

I apologize for the fact that we have all lost our sense of humor and replaced it with political correctness, or political incorrectness, as the case may be. I am also sorry for any cultural appropriation or insensitiveness I may have been guilty of in my writing. Conversely, I apologize for the very existence of sensitivity readers.

I apologize to all clowns. You still scare the hell out of me. And, you’re not funny.

I apologize to all the people who made promises and did not keep them. I was overly dependent on you, my bad.

I apologize for the hypocrisy of everyone, everywhere.

I apologize for thinking that 2017 was a pretty crappy year, with a couple of exceptions, and I am grateful for the exceptions.

Joyeuse année, tout le monde.

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About epiphanettes

Writer, songcrafter, possibly the best French pedal steel guitarist in Virginia.